


Through Different Eyes

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:44:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS:  NoneSUMMARY:  The team seen from a different perspective as they make first contact





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Through Different Eyes

They came to our village just as the sun began its ascent into the heavens. Four foreigners carrying dark bundles on their backs and peculiar tools at their sides walked into the heart of the market place. 

People left their wares and flocked to see the unusual sight. Their clothing was strange, stiff and heavy. It swallowed them from head to foot. Three of them wore oddly shaped cloths upon their heads and dark discs over their eyes. What flesh was not covered in green cloth was frighteningly pale. The fourth had skin of a warm brown, a shade more suited to the short haired canstup than a person, but less disturbing than the serpent belly coloring of his companions.

One of the men stepped forward, empty spirit-white hands out, and spoke garbled words to the wondering crowd who were gathered a safe distance from their small band. His voice was soothing, his face smiling, his manner non-threatening. He spoke for many minutes while the crowd gathered the courage to speak back. The largest man of the group stepped up behind the speaker, his face calm as he watched the first few villagers' approach cautiously. His shorn head rose above his fellows and was decorated with a shining oval of yellow against his warm brown skin. The speaking man continued to talk with strange words and vague gestures. The sole woman in the group removed her head covering. Hair the color of the sun startled everyone who saw it. Several of the woman and children moved closer to better examine this wondrous sight. She stood to one side with the older man, smiling gently at the curious children gathering around her. Emboldened by her good-natured acceptance of the small ones, the woman came closer too. Her companion nodded to the circling crowd, though he remained alert and cautious. When the woman and the gesturing man removed the dark circles from their faces, their shocking eyes caused a panic. It took the soothing voice of the sky-eyed man, with open hands and smiles to beguile the scared men and women out of their stalls and back into the open. He encouraged those brave enough to return to speak with him. Many found the strangers' appearance too peculiar and stayed within the confines of their stalls, watching as their neighbors returned to the speaking man. His soft voice echoed the words spoken as he tried to shape his speech to ours.

I didn't approach the strangers, staying under the shade of my stall to watch them. The speaking man worked hard at learning our tongue. His mispronunciations caused chuckles in the crowd who soon lost their fear of this man of such unnatural coloring. He knelt in the dirt to encourage a fearless child who stared up at him in open fascination to state her name, making her giggle when he repeated it while pointing to her, then making an unfamiliar sound while pointing to himself. The child struggled to copy the sound, laughing in delight when he patted her head in reward for the effort. Spurred on by this exchange, the others began clustering around, repeating his name and giving theirs. The stranger grinned as he tried to keep up, the accented syllables spilling from his lips.

As the sun climbed into the sky, the whole village had assembled around the strangers. Fruits and breads were offered with water and juice. The pale ones sat their packs upon the ground and accepted the refreshment. The brown one sipped water from a wooden cup, but declined the rest. He watched over his companions as they mingled with the crowd. He did not try to imitate the words spoken to him. He inclined his head or lifted an eyebrow as the day wore on, but unless answering a question directed to him by the others, he remained silent. When those around the speaking man became too enthusiastic in their desire to teach him our words, the silent one stepped forward, looming over the guilty, subduing them with his size, his stern expression, and his strong presence, much to the exasperation of the one he was obviously trying to guard. He did not appear to notice the impatient glances of the man of light eyes for his own eyes were surveying the crowd, the stalls, the horizon. His bearing warned all those near to be wary for he would not allow harm to come to any under his protection.

The woman left the side of the older man and began to move along the paths of the market place, examining the wares proud merchants hurried to offer. Her eyes sparkled like the sunlight off the bangles extended for her perusal. Curiosity drew her from stall to stall as she investigated with equal interest the piles of fruits, the brightly painted baskets, and the finely crafted hunting spears. None knew what marvels the packs they carried might reveal and all wished to attract her eye to their stall, to their goods for the chance to find out. Light woven cloth, tinkling necklaces, and squawking feast birds were held up as she walked by. She picked up a skinning knife, checking its balance and edge, smiling at the stall owner before replacing it on the table. Puzzle boxes caught her eye, bringing her into the stall of the artisan. With nimble fingers, she began searching out the manner in which to open the amusing toys. A cry of delight escaped her when a particularly difficult one sprang open in her hands. The artist gifted her with it, although she tried to refuse. In the end she accepted with a grateful smile. When she had stayed too long trying to communicate with the seller of herbs, she was called back by the older man. She returned to his side with a cluster of little clear bags, each bearing a pinch of dried herbs.

Unlike the other travelers, the older man didn't remove the dark coverings from his face. Instead, he used them to shield his eyes both from the hot rays of the sun and the speculative glances of the village elders who stood along the edge of the crowd, watching and weighing the actions of these strangers. The woman returned to his side upon his command. In the rapid speech they used between them, she told him of her finds. A shrug of his shoulders said more than the few words he spoke aloud. The barest nod toward the vigilant elders was answered by a shrug of her own, one hand waving towards the speaking man who was now making himself understood by those who thronged around him. The older man called out to the speaker, who immediately turned to him. At his nod, the speaker made his way to the elders and began to speak with them, often pointing to himself, his companions, and to the area from which they had come. As he spoke, the older man scanned the faces of those around them, scrutinizing their expressions, their movements as they responded to the speaker. He cradled his black tool in his arms, occasionally reaching up to adjust his head covering, as he watched and waited. He was like the great cats that roam the plains. Even while he was standing still, there was an air about him of restrained energy, of ferocity held in check. Only a fool would be lulled into believing this man was as casual as he appeared. Although his eyes remained covered, I had no doubt he had seen all there was to see.

I watched them work together, revealing strong bonds of familiarity and reliance between them. Somehow, I knew that these people had done this before, perhaps many times in many other distant lands. I had no doubt that the speaking man had made himself understood in a tongue not his own elsewhere, and that as they traveled the giant had cautiously guarded the group from harm. The woman had curiously explored, sharing her finds with the others, and the older one had watched over the rest, guiding and protecting them. I listened as the sky-eyed man struggling to make himself understood to the elders. In turn, they invited the strangers into a nearby home to share the mid-day meal. The speaking man called to his companions in their odd tongue, gesturing for them to come along. The silent one and the woman immediately followed as the speaking man fell into step with the elders. The older man trailed them, his body alert, his face inscrutable. As the welcomed darkness of the building's interior swallowed them from view, dozens of excited voices burst forth.

"What can this mean?"

"Who are they?"

"They were covered head to foot, and in this heat! They must not be a sensible people." 

"Where could they have come from? They traveled on foot with no canstup to carry their packs."

"The man's words made no sense. It was as if he were a child babbling."

"The woman did not understand a thing I said to her when she was looking at my baskets." 

"Maybe they are wrong in the head. Their village may have chased them out." 

"Do you think they bring us bad luck?"

"Be silent. They have done us no wrong. We must wait and see what the elders decide."

"Do you suppose they come from the land beyond the mountains?"

"Have they come to trade, do you suppose? They may have all kinds of treasures."

"The elders will find out. Old Zerk can sniff out a bargain half a day away."

"What strange clothing!" One woman exclaimed, her eyes glued to the doorway.

"What ugly clothing," murmured another. Several others chuckled.

"Did you see their eyes? They were BLUE!"

"Not the giant's. His were like ours."

"Yes, but he was so . . . brown, like dirt."

"The others were worse. Their skin looked like unbaked dough. Ugh."

"But their hair, wasn't it wonderful? So colorful."

"It looked like they had skinned a gabbel and wrapped its fur around their skulls to me."

"I have never seen a gabbel the color of the afternoon sun before."

"It was beautiful."

"It was unnatural."

"I wonder what the elders are talking to them about?"

"Maybe they are the first of many. It could be like the old days when caravans from beyond the mountains came."

"Those are stories to entertain children. No one lives beyond the mountains."

"Then where did they come from if the stories are not true?"

"The old stories also spoke of a fierce and evil god with glowing eyes. Pah. It is a tale for babies."

"What was that thing the one with dark covers over his eyes was carrying?"

"A strange tool. Perhaps he wishes to trade it?"

"I would gladly trade my finest blankets for those dark eye covers."

"I would trade both my wives for the woman."

I slipped away from the milling crowd and quietly made my way into the shade of a building where I could continue to watch the strangers when they emerged from their meeting with the elders. Never had I seen or heard of such people. I was not sure if their appearance in our midst boded ill or good for our village. I trusted the elders to keep our best interests to mind when making a decision concerning these strangers, yet in my heart I felt a strange stirring. Trade between our peoples might bring us great fortune. It was possible that they did indeed have marvels to trade for feast birds, and well crafted baskets. It could be that our lives might become better for their visit, or it could be that their presence heralded changes that we would one day come to regret. These travelers were a puzzle, one beyond my ability to solve. Something within me said that their coming was significant, although how, I did not have the faintest idea. There was no way of knowing what the results of this day would bring. I resolutely hoped that the outcome would be a blessing and not a curse for our people but only time would tell.

**fin**

  


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> This isn't much, just an excuse to put off doing housework.

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> September 10, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp. The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names, titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.

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